


Most Definitely Not Merlin

by Drag0nst0rm



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Not Really Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 03:31:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10402875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nst0rm/pseuds/Drag0nst0rm
Summary: Merlin is dead, so clearly the new manservant is not actually Merlin, despite all evidence to the contrary.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Merlin. 
> 
> Set in between S3 and S4 in an AU where Uther was sane. (Or at least as sane as he had been before Morgana's betrayal.) As a result, the knights (except Leon) have left as has Gaius due the events of this fic. Also, please note that I do not, in any way, approve of Gwaine's proposed coping method. I just couldn't see a way to keep him in character and want to do anything else.

If Gwaine had been there, he would have drunk himself into a stupor by now.

Of course, if Gwaine had been there, Lancelot, Percival, and Elyan probably would have been too, and together they might have had a chance of doing something about it.

But they hadn't been.

That hadn't stopped Arthur from hoping. He'd been convinced till the last moment that something would turn up. Gaius would have slipped him some kind of potion. Gwaine would turn out to be a seer (because honestly, why not, at this point? Arthur didn't think anything would surprise him anymore) and show up with the others at the last second to cut him loose. Or maybe Merlin himself would pull of some sort of magic. He should have been able to pull off some kind of magic.

But he hadn't.

And now he was dead. Bumbling, idiotic, disrespectful, useless, lazy Merlin was dead.

A pitcher crashed into the wall of Arthur's bedchamber. It clattered to the floor where it rolled amongst the rest of his collection.

Arthur had been throwing a lot of things. There was a spot on the wall that was vaguely oval shaped, and he'd been pretending it was Uther's head.

Prat. Dollop head. Clot pole. Arthur. Servants really weren't supposed to be on a first name basis with a prince, much less an insult basis, but somehow, Merlin had rendered rules like that irrelevant. Come to think of it, Merlin had only called him 'sire' when he was upset with him.

Uther had called it disrespectful. A few years ago, Arthur would have agreed with him. But now . . .

Merlin had stood up to him when no one else would. Arthur had thrown him in the stocks. Merlin had responded by saving his life.

Merlin had gone above and beyond his duty to protect Arthur. Arthur had fired him. Merlin had protected him anyway.

He'd drunk poison, offered counsel, listened to every question, doubt, and enchantment induced nonsense. He'd saved his life, his dignity, and his relationship with Guinevere. He'd faced certain death by Arthur's side, been given an opportunity to run, and turned it down flat. He'd kept him going when Arthur had all but given up. Arthur had told him everything.

So when Merlin used magic to stop yet another renegade sorcerer from blasting him out of existence. Arthur had frozen for a moment at the idea that yet another person had betrayed him. The hesitation had earned him a painful burn from a fireball.

Approximately two seconds later, the enemy sorcerer was pinned to the wall, slowly being choked by invisible hands. Merlin had ignored him in favor of running over to fuss over Arthur's burn like a mother hen. At that point, Arthur'd been forced to admit that while Merlin might be magical, a bit frightening, and a much better liar than previously credited, he was also still Merlin, and, thus, loyal.

Unfortunately, Uther had been there, and he had disagreed.

Uther. Not his father. Not his king. Uther would never be either of those things to Arthur again.

He could still smell the smoke. Smoke, flavored with that horrible stench that meant only one thing. He'd bathed three times that night already, and he still couldn't get the stench off him.

He closed his eyes. That was a mistake. Closed eyes meant seeing greedy flames, stealing the only real friend Arthur had ever known, guards holding him back from running to the pyre, Uther just standing there . . .

The screams followed him everywhere. His, Merlin's, Gwen's, Gaius's, they all blended together after a while.

His dagger buried itself in the wall.

 

He woke up at his desk chair with the worst crick in his neck he'd ever had. His bleary eyes saw a dark haired blurred standing beside him, shaking him. Ah, Merlin must be here with breakfast.

The thought felt wrong somehow. He frowned.

Memory hit him at the same time his vision cleared.

"Good morning, sire. I've been assigned to be your manservant for the time being. My name is - "

"Get. Out."

If his name wasn't Merlin, then Arthur didn't want to hear it.

 

Uther sighed. He was losing his son. He'd hoped, after three months, Arthur would have been over it by now.

Apparently not. Arthur's eyes made Morgana's seem warm by comparison.

Uther consulted the list in his hand. "Fifteen. You've gone through fifteen manservants in three months."

Arthur looked straight through him.

"What was wrong with this last one?"

Arthur's voice was empty and flat. "He made jokes about brass."

"The one before him had a nice sense of humor."

"He insulted me."

Uther frowned. This was the first he'd heard of that. "So badly that you felt it necessary to give him a concussion?"

"He insulted his predecessors."

Despite common belief, Uther was not so oblivious as to not realize the likelihood that it had been one predecessor in particular the poor boy had insulted.

He was losing his son. He would have had to have been a fool not to see it. He should have put his foot down. He should have ordered Arthur to do - What? How exactly did you order your son to forgive you for doing what was necessary?

Not even a king could force his son to love him.

He let Arthur go. His son stormed out, ghosts nipping at his heels.

 

"Rise and shine! You've got a big day ahead of you, and you're running late!"

Blinding sunlight burst through the window as the curtains were forced open. Arthur sat up blearily, his vision still somewhat blurred.

"Merlin?"

The figure came into clearer focus. Bright red hair and eyes entirely the wrong shade of blue came into view.

Not Merlin. Merlin was gone.

"Will, actually. I brought you breakfast - " he tossed him a roll, "but you're going to have to hurry because you're running late."

Arthur caught the roll, but he set it aside. He wasn't hungry.

Will frowned. "Eat. Or I'll have to put another hole in your belt loop, and it won't be because you're getting fat."

"Not hungry," he muttered. It was none of the servant's business anyways.

"I'll tell Gwen," the manservant threatened.

Arthur froze. That was below the belt.

He tore off half the roll and swallowed it, glaring all the while. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic. Now, as I said, you're running late."

"Why didn't you wake me earlier?" He turned to grab a shirt from the wardrobe.

"I was . . . delayed."

_"Where have you been?"_

_"Would you be this upset if I'd been dying?"_

_"No, but you weren't, so where were you?"_

_"I was dying."_

_"I don't have time for this."_

The memory stung. Especially now that he had to wonder if the idiot had actually been dying. What other secrets had Merlin kept from him?

"Sire?" Will asked uncertainly. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," he said curtly.

His hands shook as he reached for his sword.

 

Will lasted longer than any of the others had. There was something odd about him, something Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on. It hurt, to have him around. He was just a bit too much like Merlin. But he did his job, and he managed to keep Arthur from actually committing patricide, so that was something.

Of course, that was tested when Uther was stupid enough to say something about how he was glad Arthur was "finally moving past that servant boy."

Will had tripped, spilling wine all over Arthur's shirt, and, babbling, managed to manhandle Arthur out of the room and into the hallway.

Arthur stalked down it, trying to stay calm. Breathe. Just breathe.

"What happened to him?" the servant asked quietly.

"I don't want to talk about it," Arthur growled.

Will wouldn't let it go. He grabbed Arthur's elbow. "Please. No one will talk about it. I asked Gwen but . . . she just cried. Please. I need to know."

"No. You really don't."

"Then maybe it would help you to talk about it."

Arthur sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "I had a servant named Merlin once. He was convicted of sorcery. Uther had him burned at the stake."

Will's face had gone remarkably pale. "Oh."

"I tried to stop it, I wanted to stop it, but - " He shrugged. He felt sick.

Strangely, Will looked happier. Relieved. "You didn't hate him? Merlin?"

"Why would I hate him?"

Will just shrugged. A strange grin was tugging at his face.

Arthur frowned. It was almost like -

Gwen came around the corner and crashed into him. "Arthur!"

"Gwen! Are you all right?"

"Yes, fine, thank you." She looked up at him in concern. "And you?"

"Better." It had helped, to talk.

They talked for a long time as he walked her back to her house and kissed her good night. It never occurred to him to wonder where Will had gotten off to.

 

It had never occurred to Arthur how much they depended on Gaius to tell them how to handle magical threats until he was gone. They muddled through the phoenix, the giant, and another outbreak of trolls, but the Dorocha were a different matter.

Arthur sighed. Research wasn't really his strong suit. His eyes were burning from pouring through the musty old books. Gwen was helping as best she could, but no one had ever thought it important to teach a maidservant how to read, so the amount of assistance she could render was limited.

He finally found a mention of how to defeat them in an old druid text, but his relief was quickly tempered by ice forming in his stomach.

A sacrifice. They needed a human sacrifice.

He swallowed. What was it his father had told him once?

_A prince's highest duty is to his realm. He must be willing to give all he is to protect the people in it._

Tom had died, Morgana had turned, Merlin had died . . . He had failed so many people.

He would not fail in this.

"I'll do it," a quiet voice from behind him said.

He whirled. Will was standing there, looking deadly serious. "I'll go through the veil. I ought to be dead anyway."

"Don't be ridiculous, what are you talking about?"

The red slowly bled from the boy's hair. His eyes darkened, and his face shifted ever so slightly.

Will. Merlin. Merlin. Will.

Arthur's mouth fell open. Something was lodged very firmly in his throat.

Merlin wasn't looking at him. "It took me a while to remember. I couldn't remember anything at first, but it came back to me eventually. Well, almost everything did. I still can't remember actually dying. I think I'm rather thankful for that."

Arthur punched him.

Merlin stumbled back. "What was that for?"

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!"

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh. That." He smiled weakly. "I can explain?"

Arthur rubbed his forehead. "Please. Do."

"See, the dragon said one thing, and Freya said another, and it was really rather confusing, but I think I'm more or less immortal, but the dragon was very insistent on not telling you and I'm still not sure - " He broke off. "Okay, I can't explain."

"Clearly." He couldn't fight back the smile for any longer. "It's good to have you back, Merlin."

Merlin's answering smile was brilliant.

"Which is why you're not the one going through the veil. That's my job."

"No way! I have not saved your worthless hide this many times just for you to get yourself killed!"

"Well, if you think I'm going to stand by and watch you die again - "

"Boys!" Gwen appeared from around the bookshelves, glaring at them both. "Neither of you are going to die. Morgana opened the veil, didn't she?"

They nodded.

"So why don't we just shove her in?" she suggested reasonably.

Merlin looked at Arthur. Arthur looked at Merlin.

"That might actually work. Good thinking, Gwen," Merlin said.

Gwen turned her glare on him. "And you!"

Merlin stepped back, hands raised defensively.

That didn't do him much good when Gwen burst into tears and nearly tackled him with a hug.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't remember if in the show Gwen's ever shown reading or not. Since she was both a peasant and female though, it seemed more realistic that she be illiterate.
> 
> Dialogue in italics is more or less from the show.
> 
> This was one of the first fanfiction stories I ever wrote. I had just finished Merlin and was very much not okay with it. Neither was my beta. She requested fix-it fic, which resulted in "A Brief History of Merlin," "Finding Merlin," the one where Merlin traces his family tree, a fic about Arthur's birthday that will probably never hit the internet, a fix-it fic that "History Happens at Midnight" was snipped from, and this. I eventually got up the nerve to post it on wattpad, and the positive response has led to all of this.
> 
> I now know this story isn't exactly the height of originality. Plenty of people have done fic like this. To be fair, most fic ideas have been at least partially done by someone else, but I've since tried to steer clear of things quite so common as this. At the time I wrote it however, I hadn't read a lick of Merlin fanfiction, so I didn't realize that the story probably needed a bit more to it.
> 
> Despite its flaws I'm still fond of it, however, which is why I'm posting it. If nothing else, rereading it has helped jog loose a few ideas in my head for my next piece.


End file.
